


I can't believe how hot it is

by Laramie



Series: Things you said [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M, Seaside, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 14:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5251385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in London, the servants have a day out at the beach. Thomas goes for a walk with Jimmy to meet up with Alfred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't believe how hot it is

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by not-your-blogger. To help me add to this series, send me a dialogue prompt at marshallismyname.tumblr.com

**May 1923**

It was a terrible idea, really. Thomas's only consolation was that it was not his own. It was Jimmy who had approached him, still sweaty and glowing after the football game on the beach had dissolved into nothing but a lone hallboy dribbling lazily. Thomas hadn't wanted to accept, but it was Jimmy's birthday, and his eyes squinted against the sun as he smiled, so when he asked if Thomas would come for a wander with him to meet up with Alfred, Thomas accepted. Jimmy's hands were stuffed deep in his pockets as they set off across the sand in bare feet; Thomas did the same to make sure he couldn't reach out, even though between the heat and his glove, his hands were getting sweaty.

Jimmy was quiet, but seemed cheerful. Thomas had been concerned that he wouldn't be, because last year he had been a little melancholy on his birthday. When Thomas asked why, Jimmy had shrugged and said that birthdays were not the same without parents.

He had given Jimmy a card that morning ("To Jimmy, Happy birthday -- Thomas"), but no present, because Jimmy had not given him one for his birthday the previous December and he didn't want to be presumptuous. He always tried to let Jimmy take the lead.

"Did you win the football game?" Thomas asked.

"Probably," Jimmy shrugged, before adding: "Don't think anybody did, really. You ducked out pretty quickly."

"I needed to have a word with Miss Baxter," Thomas explained, though with most people he would not have bothered giving a reason.

Jimmy did not reply, just kicked idly at a lump of sand that had probably once been a sandcastle. The fine grains were caught by a gust of wind and flew into Thomas's face. An apologetic half-smile was Jimmy's only response to Thomas's narrowed eyes, but he did refrain from doing it again. "Dunno why I'm going," Jimmy muttered. "I never liked him at Downton and he hasn't got any more interesting." Eyes narrowed against the sun, he looked up to the promenade.

"Have you been writing to him?" Thomas asked. He found the idea surprising.

"Once or twice. He's written to me more, mostly about Ivy or how great everything is in London."

The signs of an oncoming temper were clear. Thomas tried to distract him before it could take hold: "Where are you meeting him?"

Jimmy squinted up at the promenade again. "There's an arcade down here somewhere." He pointed over at a concrete ramp off the beach that they were drawing level with, briefly touching Thomas's bare wrist as he said: "We should go up there."

Thomas prayed that he wasn't blushing as he followed on behind Jimmy, trudging through the soft sand. He was silly to let a scant touch on the wrist affect him so. When they sat on the sea wall to put their shoes on, Thomas looked at Jimmy's bare feet out of the corner of his eye. Even such an innocent body part felt illicit when he was so unused to seeing it; even when they visited each other in their bedrooms, as happened occasionally, Jimmy tended to leave his socks on against the cold. In the time it took him to tie his laces, Thomas spun an entire fantasy of worshipping Jimmy's feet.

He'd start by giving them a massage. The job of a servant involved a lot of standing, and their feet often got sore. Maybe first Jimmy could soak his feet for a while; then he'd lie on his front on a bed and Thomas would press his thumbs into the arches until Jimmy melted into the mattress. Jimmy's feet had more of a pinkish hue, compared to the rest of him. Thomas would move on to his heels next, kissing them gently. Maybe Jimmy would be ticklish, and squirm - or maybe he wouldn't. Either way, Thomas would get him humming with pleasure. His next stop would be Jimmy's ankles and the bones protruding there. He'd press his tongue against the slight hollow between the bone on the inside of Jimmy's foot and the start of his heel.

Before Thomas could go any further in his mental exploration, Jimmy finished tying his shoelaces and sprang to his feet. Thomas followed quickly, pushing the daydream out of his head.

They crossed the road, dodging a patch of broken glass, and continued along the pavement a little way until Jimmy stopped them at an amusement arcade. As they waited outside, Jimmy asked: "D'you have some change?"

"Not much. I didn't know we'd be coming here."

Jimmy fished in his trouser pocket, emerging with a handful of coins which he examined and fidgeted with for a moment before holding out his closed fist - "Here."

Automatically, Thomas accepted the jingle of pennies and ha'pennies before realising what they were. "I can't take these - " he protested, trying to give them back. It was ludicrous for Jimmy to be giving him money when Thomas earned more than he did.

"Yes you can," Jimmy said, keeping his hands resolutely in his pockets. "It's not the same when you can't join in." From his tone, it wasn't clear whether he meant that it wouldn't be the same for him if _Thomas_ couldn't join in or just making a non-specific comment about participation in general. The uncertainty made Thomas hesitate long enough for Jimmy to add: "'Sonly coppers, anyway. Buy me a beer when we get back and we'll call it even."

The suggestion made Thomas more comfortable with taking Jimmy's money, since a pint would cost more than Jimmy had just given him - and from the way Jimmy was grinning up from behind his unruly fringe, he knew he was pushing his luck too, the git. And anyway, it felt petty to argue over pennies.

"It's a deal," Thomas said lightly, pocketing the change with a warm glow at the thought of Jimmy being the one to suggest a night out. It was not that he never did - but it pleased Thomas every time.

Thomas reached for his pocketwatch and was about to ask when Alfred was supposed to be arriving when he saw Jimmy's chin lift; he turned to see Alfred and another young man walking along the pavement towards them. Thomas automatically sized him up: he was a similar age to Alfred, but not as tall, had a too-long nose and a pudgy, muscle-less frame. So: not attractive to Thomas, and not a threat to him either.

Alfred gave them - or, more likely, Jimmy - a wide grin as he approached and raised his hand in greeting. Jimmy slid a glance at Thomas and rolled his eyes, making Thomas wonder why Jimmy was hiding the fact that he was actually pleased to see his friend - only a little perhaps, and it might have as much to do with Alfred's obvious happiness at seeing _Jimmy_ as it did with Alfred himself - but Jimmy was clearly pleased, all the same. This was evidenced by the deepening of the lines below his cheeks, progressing to a full smile as Alfred reached them and shook Jimmy's hand, saying: "It’s good to see you, mate." He then turned to Thomas and faltered slightly, but, to his credit, he valiantly stuck out his hand for Thomas to shake. Thomas did so, briefly, not willing to look the childish one.

"That's William," Alfred said, returning his attention to Jimmy and jerking a thumb over his shoulder at his companion.

Thomas had to contain a flinch at the name - but, of course, it meant little to Jimmy and Alfred.

"William, this is Jimmy and Mr Barrow," Alfred had continued while Thomas was wrestling a ghost and its associated guilt back into a little box in his mind. Sometimes it felt like his brain was more full of boxes he never thought about than anything else. Phillip had had the right idea, when it came down to it: burn what you don't want to admit to.

"How d'you do," Jimmy said to William neutrally.

"How d'you do," William returned. "We goin' in, then?"

"Yeah," Jimmy agreed; all four of them filed into the arcade.

"I made some lemon curd biscuits," Alfred said as they entered. From behind, Thomas saw him holding out the paper bag that he had been carrying for Jimmy to take. "I wanted to see what you think."

"I'm not goin' to pass up biscuits," Jimmy responded, taking the bag and fishing one out to much on. He and Alfred split off to one machine while William went to another and Thomas to a third, a little further away but just close enough to hear Jimmy's appreciative noise over the biscuit.

Thomas filed the sound away in his memory and fixed his eyes on one of the machines, choosing it more-or-less at random. He dropped one of Jimmy's coins into the slot. The machine told a simple mechanical story about a fire in a mine, done by clockwork movements and changing red lights. It was rather clever, but Thomas was more interested in how the thing worked than in the actual tale it had to tell. Nonetheless, he stood watching until the end before moving on to a Target Practice machine. In this, one put a penny in the side slot and flicked the lever in the hope of the coin landing in a particular section, which would pay out tuppence, two shillings or five shillings. The ability to aim was complicated by the nails tapped into the back of the machine, which always seemed to be in precisely the place that would make the penny rebound into the non-winning gutter.

Thomas dropped in some pennies, managing to hit the two-shilling payout. He called to the owner, who looked at the coin balanced on the slot and turned a handle to let it drop before going to the counter to get Thomas his prize money.

"And don't spend it all at once," he said, smiling indulgently. "Unless it's in here, of course."

"Of course," Thomas echoed dryly, pocketing his prize money. He returned to the Target Practice machine with the thought of sinking a few more pennies into it, to find that William was there. They alternated turns for a while, with William eventually winning his own two shillings and Thomas getting another tuppence. It was all given in pennies, of course, the easier to immediately re-invest it into the games.

When Thomas next turned away, it was to see Jimmy and Alfred approaching a car-racing simulator.

"Hey Jimmy, d'you want -" Alfred began, but Jimmy spoke over him, catching Thomas's eye.

"Mr Barrow, how about I beat you in a car race?" he called, grinning in a self-assured way.

"I don't think so," Thomas said, joining him by the machine. "But how about I beat _you_ in one?"

"Not a chance," Jimmy said at once, grinning at him before turning to drop a coin into the box. "You be the red car, I'll be the blue one," he said, taking hold of the handle on the blue wheel on the left of the machine.

Thomas stepped in to take the red wheel on the right, and when the game started they both turned their handles as quickly as they could to make the cars move forward. Thomas was surprised at how competitive he felt. With he and Jimmy using opposite hands, they ended up facing each other, and he could see grim determination in Jimmy's face. They stared each other down as they turned the cranks, giving it their all - until at last Thomas's car hit the finish line first.

Jimmy released his crank with a final, petulant shove and pouted.

"Bad luck," Thomas couldn't resist saying.

"Rematch?" Jimmy suggested hopefully.

"Not a chance," Thomas grinned. "You lost, Kent."

"Shove off," Jimmy told him, with a push.

Thomas's grin widened at the casual physicality as he shifted his feet to stay balanced. Jimmy held his gaze, making Thomas feel as though something hot and fizzy was bubbling up inside, before half-turning.

"Wonder where Alfred's got to." He drifted away, but Thomas thought he caught the edge of a smile as Jimmy went.

Thomas took a deep breath and tried to gather himself. For a little while, he toured the arcade on his own, sometimes passing the others and sharing a game before moving on. He saw Jimmy returning to the counter for change more than once; he seemed to have been stuck on one game for quite a long time.

Even Alfred noticed; he wandered over to Thomas, who was watching Jimmy at the machine. Somehow, Alfred was now carrying the bag of biscuits again. "He must 'ave spent 'alf a crown by now."

"He's a grown-up; he's allowed to," Thomas said, jumping to Jimmy's defence automatically even though he shared Alfred's concerns.

They both watched him in silence for a few more seconds as he scowled, muttered something, and whacked the machine with the heel of his hand in irritation.

"He doesn't really look as though he's enjoying it, though," Alfred pointed out. It was true, and it worried Thomas a bit.

Jimmy seemed to be searching his pockets for more coins and then, apparently finding none, he made his way towards the change machine.

Thomas moved to intercept him. "I think it's time to go now."

Jimmy still had a sour look on his face. "Just another half-crown," he said, making to step past Thomas. "I can always get money."

Laying a hand on his upper arm, Thomas said, more quietly: "I think it's time to stop now." He held Jimmy's gaze, willing him to acquiesce and not force Thomas to pull rank on him.

After a moment, Jimmy's eyes dropped to his feet. "It's boring anyway," he mumbled.

"Yes," Thomas agreed, resisting the temptation to drape an arm around Jimmy's shoulders as they headed for the exit. It felt like such a natural impulse.

Alfred and William joined them outside, William looking peevish. "I wasn't done," he griped.

"I wanted to get out onto the beach," Thomas lied smoothly.

William seemed to lighten up a bit. "All right. Blimey, that sun's bright."

Indeed it was; it had made Thomas wince as they came outside, the light almost painful after the comparative darkness of the amusement arcade.

"How was the exam?" Jimmy asked, presumably referencing something Alfred had said in a letter. To Thomas, he didn't sound interested in the slightest, but Alfred either didn't notice or didn't care. As they all made their way onto the sand, he and William launched into a description of the questions, the examiner and how they and their classmates thought they had done.

Jimmy exchanged a look with Thomas that seemed to indicate he regretted asking; it was not long before he snapped: "All right, I'm not _that_ interested.

"Shouldn't have asked, then," Alfred said amiably, displaying his long fuse. "'ow's Daisy?"

"Mr Levinson - or, rather, his valet, wants to take her to America," Thomas said.

Alfred looked appalled. " _Why_?"

"He likes her cooking and the valet likes her," Thomas explained.

Alfred frowned. He seemed thoroughly put-out.

 _Typical,_ Thomas thought. _Not interested until she might be leaving._

William huffed out a breath and flapped the neck of his shirt. "I can't believe how hot it is."

"That'll be our Mr Barrow," Jimmy said slyly. "He's hot stuff."

Thomas's head whipped around to stare at him, gobsmacked, but the other three were laughing raucously. It was a joke, he realised immediately, with a stab of disappointment. Of course, he certainly hoped Jimmy would be more discreet if they ever _did_ … anyway. He forced a chuckle but couldn't help the warm glow at the phrase ' _our_ Mr Barrow'.

"Well your Mr Barrow needs to tone it down," William said, with a friendly push at Jimmy. Thomas wasn't sure why William seemed more comfortable with Jimmy than with Thomas, but there it was. He wasn't terribly practised at putting people at ease; he was good at putting them on edge, but not so much at relaxing them. "I'm baking here," William concluded. The sun was certainly very hot, and the effort of walking on sand was not helping.

"Alfred can turn you into biscuits," Thomas suggested.

"I'm melting as well," Alfred complained. "You'd have to turn me into icing."

" _Yuck_ ," Jimmy said, very distinctly, and they all laughed.

"So it's settled," Thomas said, digging in his trouser pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. "On the menu tonight: William biscuits with Alfred icing."

"Looks like you and I are the only survivors, Mr Barrow," Jimmy said with a slow smile that contained something which made Thomas's stomach turn over.

"Apparently," William said. "There are some places where people go out on the seaside naked."

There was a brief moment of silence as they all considered this depravity. Jimmy's narrow-eyed gaze slipped from the sand, to Thomas, to a young woman lying fully-clothed on a picnic blanket next to her husband.

"Never," Alfred declared. "You'd get arrested."

William began to protest otherwise, over which Jimmy demanded: "Where the hell would they let you do that?"

Thomas thought it best to stick to smoking and stay out of the conversation. He wasn't much interested in it anyway; so some people went to the beach naked… so what? Good for them. It didn't mean anything to the four of them walking along just then.

"Why would you even _want_ to?" Jimmy was asking.

"She said it's good for getting a suntan, so you don't look like you're stuck inside a basement all day," William said.

There was a clamour of noise from the other two. "Who's 'she'?" Jimmy asked.

"This American girl who came in the restaurant," William said. "I saw her smoking outside and we got to talking."

"You don't even smoke," said Alfred.

"No, but there's lots of other things I do," William leered.

"Good to know the daughters of the upper-crust are safe at the Ritz," Thomas said, blowing out smoke, and was gratified by the grin Jimmy sent his way. It made his chest expand.

"Sounds like it would keep you cool, anyway," said Alfred, pulling uncomfortably at his collar.

"Oh yeah, like you'd ever be brave enough," Jimmy scoffed.

"I would too!"

"No way, mate," put in William.

"Oh, and like _you'd_ take your clothes off at the beach!" Alfred retorted.

Thomas watched them with slight alarm as his cigarette burnt out, wondering whether he should step in, in case one of them decided it was a good idea to take his trousers off and got arrested for public indecency. But it was only Jimmy who was at all obliged to listen to him, and somehow he didn't think Jimmy would appreciate Thomas telling him what to do in front of the others. It was different when they were at work; but out of work they were only friends, and they could always tell the difference.

" _I_ have nothing to be ashamed of," William said pointedly.

"Prove it, then," Alfred demanded, and suddenly William was unfastening his waistcoat and shirt buttons.

Thomas quickly looked away, not wanting to give any ammunition whatsoever.

"See," William said. "I'm braver than you lot."

That was what did it - Alfred and Jimmy were fumbling with their buttons too, and Thomas stared at the sand in front of his feet, feeling his cheeks heating up with discomfort and trying very hard not to think about the fact that he had seen Jimmy's bare chest before - some of it, at least.

"Looks like Mr Barrow's the only coward among us," he heard William say.

Thomas looked up to see three half-naked young men. That was not something he would ever have expected to object to but under the circumstances… He glanced between Alfred and Jimmy and prayed to all that was holy that neither of them would say anything to give away his preferences.

"But Mr Barrow -" Alfred began hesitantly, before being cut off by Jimmy, who half-smirked and held Thomas's gaze as he said:

"- is far older and more boring than the rest of us."

Thomas kept his eyes on Jimmy's face, but he could see Jimmy's inexplicably tanned chest and stomach in his peripheral vision and swallowed. "I'm not old. And I'm not boring."

"Prove it, then," Jimmy said quietly, echoing Alfred's words from earlier but somehow making them sound very, very different - and very, very sexy.

For a second that might have been an eternity, Thomas looked into Jimmy's beautiful blue eyes.

"Are you a man or a mouse?" challenged William, putting his hands on his hips.

Thomas hesitated for a moment longer before unbuttoning his own waistcoat and shirt. He still thought this was a terrible idea, but something in Jimmy's gaze made him brave.

When the shirt was undone, Thomas slipped it off his shoulders with renewed confidence. He had no great worries about his body - a body was a body, and he didn't overthink it - and he seemed safe from anyone making undue inferences from his participation. And so he simply joined them, draping the clothing over his shoulder and sweeping his hair, which had fallen in his eyes, back into place.

"All right," Alfred said. "We're all men. Can we get dressed again now?"

"Definitely," William agreed.

They all pulled their shirts back on. Thomas allowed himself a single second's glance at Jimmy, only to find that Jimmy was already looking at him; but Jimmy immediately averted his gaze to his own fingers, which were suddenly struggling with the buttons.

"Silly idea, anyway," Jimmy muttered. "Who'd want to be starkers in front o' the world an' his wife?"

"William here, apparently," Thomas said wryly as he finished doing up his buttons.

"Not _me_ ," William protested at once. "It's just what that American girl told me."

"Americans will tell you anything," Thomas said, just for the sake of it. An American had once declared love to Thomas after just two weeks together in London. The romance hadn't lasted beyond the season, but they still wrote to each other very occasionally.

"She wasn't lying," William insisted, perhaps feeling that to doubt her was to doubt his motives.

"We really don't care," Jimmy said flatly, holding out his hand to Thomas. Thomas put his cigarette box in it, in which both his cigarettes and lighter were kept, and Jimmy went about lighting up as though to prove his point.

William frowned, looking a bit lost as to how to respond.

"What time is it?" Alfred piped up.

Thomas accepted his cigarettes back from Jimmy before checking his pocket watch. "Nearly three."

"We should get going," Alfred said, with a glance at William. "It was good to see you again, Jimmy. Er - you too, Mr Barrow." He handed the biscuits back to Jimmy.

"See ya," Jimmy responded, and took a careless drag of his cigarette.

"Nice to meet you both," William said casually, as he and Alfred turned to reverse their journey along the beach.

Thomas and Jimmy continued on in the direction of the others. It was suddenly very quiet with just the two of them, but Thomas had nothing he felt like saying. He didn't think Jimmy minded, but it was hard to be sure.

It was Jimmy who eventually broke the silence, rather grumpily. "I ought to work in a hotel. Not as a cook," he added hastily. "I'm not a girl. But at least I'd get to hear interesting things."

"Hear," Thomas said simply. He did not think Jimmy would be any happier just _hearing_ interesting things if he could not go and experience them. He would be climbing the walls in frustration within a month.

"I know," Jimmy sighed, as though he had understood everything Thomas had left unspoken as well as what he had said. "But at least it's something. One step closer."

"Closer to what?" Thomas asked, going cold with the thought that Jimmy would take off.

" _Something_ ," Jimmy said only, clenching his fists.

Thomas nearly told him to mind his cigarette, but felt that that might be crossing some invisible line. He kept the comment to himself and waited for Jimmy's hands to relax, for the left one to bring the cigarette to Jimmy's lips for the final drag, before saying: "You'll get out one day." He wasn't always sure that he himself would, but he never doubted it for Jimmy.

Jimmy glanced at him and offered a small smile, but then his eyes caught on something ahead of them and Thomas looked up to realise that their co-workers had come into view. "You'll get out too," Jimmy said quietly.

"Maybe."

As they passed Daisy sitting on her picnic blanket, Thomas noticed that Ivy was now deep in conversation with Mr Levinson's valet, Mr Slade. Thomas paused next to her. "What happened there?"

"I'm not going to America," she said happily. "I'm staying right here. And Ivy and Mr Slade are going to be pen-pals."

"Congratulations," Thomas said dryly, wondering why on earth she would turn such an opportunity down and why she was so pleased about doing so.

Jimmy held out the brown paper bag. "Alfred made you some biscuits."

Daisy frowned in confusion, her nose wrinkling as she took the bag. "Alfred? Our Alfred?"

"The one and only," Jimmy confirmed.

"How did you get them?" Daisy asked, peering in the bag.

"We just saw him," Jimmy explained.

"He had a friend called William," Thomas said; he didn't know why. But it was satisfying to see that Daisy felt the same shock at the name as he did. Well, maybe not exactly the same, though he knew the name carried a lot of guilt for her too.

"I'm glad he's making friends," Daisy said steadily. "He doesn't say very much, when he writes."

Thomas made to move away; Jimmy shifted his weight, clearly intending to accompany him. "Talk about biscuits, then," Thomas suggested. "He'll never shut up." As they walked away, he added to Jimmy: "Why did you do that?"

Jimmy shrugged. "It amuses me," he said, without specifying what, precisely, he found amusing. They walked along in silence for a few moments, passing Molesley and Baxter on the sand. Jimmy jammed his hands in his trouser pockets. "I'm going to get an ice cream," he said abruptly. "See you later."

The lack of invitation was clear, so Thomas bid him goodbye and watched him walking away up the beach, golden and grey in his waistcoat just like the sand against the sea wall.

Thomas turned, sat down, and watched the sea, which was as blue as Jimmy's eyes. He smiled as he returned to his earlier daydream, and this time there was no one to interrupt him kissing every inch of Jimmy's sun-warmed skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5352755 to see linkworshiper's fic of what happens when Thomas's fantasy comes true! It's set during the seaside holiday they take in _Hey! I was going to eat that!_ , which is here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4673903


End file.
